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The LEGEND 

of the 

BLEEDING-HEAR T 





















































































IN MEMORY 


OF THE ONES THAT GREW 
SO LONG AGO, 

in old “Sltmt JQantpV’ garden. 




The Legend of the 


Bleeding-heart 


days of old, when all 
things in the Wood had 
speech, there lived within its 
depths a lone Flalx-spinner. 
She was a bent old creature, 
and ill to look upon, but all 
the tongues of all the forest 
leaves were ever kept a-wag- 
ging with the story of her 


THE LEGEND OF THE 


kindly deeds. And even to 
this day they sometimes 
whisper low among them- 
selves (because they fain 
would hold in mind so 
sweet a tale) the story of 
her kindness to the little 
orphan, Olga. 

’Twas no slight task the 
old Flax-spinner took upon 
herself, the day she brought 
the helpless child to share 
the shelter of her thatch. 


BLEEDING - HEAR T 


The Oak outside her door 
held up his arms in solemn 
protest. 

“ Thou dost but waste 
thyself,” he said. “Thy 
benefits will be forgot, thy 
labours unrequited. For 
Youth is ever but another 
title for Ingratitude.” 

“Nay, friend,” the old 
Flax-spinner said. “ My little 
Olga will not be ungrateful 
and forgetful.” 


THE LEGEND OF THE 

All hedged about with 
loving care, the orphan grew 
to gracious maidenhood, and 
felt no lack of father, 
mother, brother or sister. 
In every way the old Flax- 
spinner took their places. 
But many were the sacri- 
fices that she made to keep 
her fed and warmly clad, 
and every time she went 
without herself that Olga 
might receive a greater 


4 


BLEEDING - HEAR T 


share, Wiseacre Oak looked 
down and frowned and 
shook his head. 

Then would the old dame 
hasten to her inner room, 
and there she pricked her- 
self with her spindle, until a 
great red drop of her heart’s 
blood fell into her trembling 
hand. With witchery of 
words she blew upon it, 
and rolled it in her palm, 
and muttering, turned and 


THE LEGEND OF THE 


turned and turned it. And 
as the spell was laid upon it, 
it shrivelled into a tiny 
round ball like a seed, and 
she strung it on a thread 
where were many others like 
it, saying, “ By this she will 
remember. She will not be 
ungrateful and forgetful.” 

So years went by, and 
Olga grew in goodness and 
in beauty, and helped the 
old Flax-spinner in her tasks 


BLEEDING - HEAR T 


as blithely and as willingly 
as if she were indeed her 
daughter. Every morning 
she brought water from the 
spring, gathered the wild 
fruits of the woods, and 
spread the linen on the 
grass to bleach. At such 
times would the bent old 
foster-mother hold herself 
erect, and call up to the 
Oak, “ Dost see ? Thou’rt 
wrong! Youth is not an- 


THE LEGEND OF THE 


other title for Ingrati- 
tude.” 

“ Thou hast not lived as 
long as I,” would be the 
only answer. 

One day as Olga was 
wandering by the spring, 
searching for watercresses, 
the young Prince of the 
castle rode by on his pran- 
cing charger. A snow-white 
plume waved in his hat, and 
a shining silver bugle hung 


BLEEDING - HEART 


from his shoulder, for he 
had been following the 
chase. 

He was thirsty and tired, 
and asked for a drink, but 
there was no cup with 
which to dip the water 
from the spring. But Olga 
caught the drops as they 
bubbled out from the spring, 
holding them in the hollow 
of her beautiful white hands, 
and reaching up to where 


9 




THE LEGEND OF THE % 

he sat, offered h i m the ^ 

sparkling water. So grace- ^ 

fully was it done, that the ^ 

Prince was charmed by her ^ 

modest manner as well as Sj!j 

her lovely face, and baring ^ 

his head when he had ^ 

slaked his thirst, he touched ^ 

the white hands with his <5* 

lips. cpjt 

£ 9 ) 

Before he rode away he 
asked her name and where 
she lived. The next day a £» 


10 


BLEEDING - HEART 


courier in scarlet and gold 
stopped at the door of the 
cottage and invited Olga to 
the castle. Princesses and 
royal ladies from all over 
the realm were to be enter- 
tained there, seven days and 
seven nights. Every night 
a grand ball was to be 
given, and Olga was sum- 
moned to each of the balls. 
It was because of her pleas- 
ing manner and her great 


THE LEGEND OF THE 


beauty that she had been 
bidden. 

The old Flax -spinner 
courtesied low to the courier 
and promised that Olga 
should be at the castle 
without fail. 

“ But, good dame,” cried 
Olga, when the courier had 
gone, “ prithee tell me why 
thou didst make such a 
promise, knowing full well 
this gown of tow is all I 


12 


BLEEDING - HEAR T 


own. Wouldst have me 
stand before the Prince in 
beggar’s garb ? Better to 
bide at home for aye than 
be put to shame before such 
guests.” 

“ Have done, my child ! ” 
the old dame said. “ Thou 
shalt wear a court robe of 
the finest. Years have I 
toiled to have it ready, but 
that is naught. I loved 

thee as my own.” 

*3 


THE LEGEND OF THE 


Then once more the old 
Flax-spinner went into her 
inner room, and pricked her- 
self with her spindle till 
another great red drop of 
her heart’s blood fell into 
her trembling hand. With 
witchery of words she blew 
upon it, and rolled it in her 
palm, and muttering, turned 

and turned and turned it. 

\ 

And as the spell was laid 
upon it, it shrivelled into a 


BLEEDING - HEART 


tiny round ball like a seed, 
and she strung it on to a 
thread, where were many 
others like i t. Seventy 
times seven was the number 
of beads on this strange 
rosary. 

When the night of the 
first ball rolled around, Olga 
combed her long golden hair 
and twined it with a wreath 
of snowy water-lilies, and 
then she stood before the 


THE LEGEND OF THE 


old dame in her dress of 
tow. To her wonderment 
and grief she saw there was 
no silken robe in waiting, 
only a string of beads to clasp 
around her white throat. 
Each bead in the necklace 
was like a little shrivelled 
seed, and Olga’s eyes filled 
with tears of disappoint- 
ment. 

“ Obey me and all will be 
well,” said the old woman. 




BLEEDING - HEAR T 


“ When thou reachest the 
castle gate clasp one bead in 
thy fingers and say : 

“ ‘ For love’s sweet sake, in my hour of 
need, 

Blossom and deck me, little seed.’ 

Straightway right royally 
shalt thou be clad. But re- 
member carefully the charm. 
Only to the magic words, 
‘ For love’s sweet sake ’ will 
the necklace give up its 
treasures. If thou shouldst 


17 


THE LEGEND OF THE 


forget, then thou must be 
doomed always to wear thy 
gown of tow.” 

So Olga sped on her 
moon-lighted way through 
the forest until she came to 
the castle gate. There she 
paused, and grasping a bead 
of the strange necklace be- 
tween her fingers, repeated 
the old dame’s charm : 

“ For love’s sweet sake, in my hour of 
need, 

Blossom and deck me, little seed.” 


BLEEDING - HEART 


Immediately the bead 
burst with a little puff as if 
a seed pod had snapped 
asunder. A faint perfume 
surrounded her, rare and 
subtle as if it had been 
blown across from some 
flower of Eden. Olga 
looked down and found her- 
self enveloped in a robe of 
such delicate texture, that 
it seemed soft as a rose-leaf 
and as airy as pink clouds 


19 




*£} (A 


m£ LEGEND OF THE 

that sometimes float across 
the sunset. The water-lilies 
in her hair had become a 
coronal of opals. 

When she entered the 
great ball-room, the Prince 
of the castle started up from 
his throne in amazement. 
Never before had he seen 
such a vision of loveliness. 
“ Surely,” said he, “ some 
rose of Paradise hath found 
a soul and drifted earthward 



20 




BLEEDING - HEAR T 


to blossom here.” And all 
that night he had eyes for ^ 
none but her. ^ 

The next night Olga ^ 
started again to the castle ^ 
in her dress of tow, and at ^ 
the gate she grasped the ^ 
second bead in her fingers, ^ 
repeating the charm. This 
time the pale yellow of the 
daffodils seemed to have 
woven itself into a cloth of 
gold for her adorning. It 


21 





was like a shimmer of 
moon-beams, and her hair 
held the diamond flashings 
of a hundred tiny stars. 

That night the Prince paid 
her so many compliments 
and singled her out so often 
to bestow his favours, that 
Olga’s head was turned. 
She tossed it proudly, and 
quite scorned the thought of 
the humble cottage which 
had given her shelter so 


BLEEDING - HEAR T 


long. The next day when 
she had returned to her 
gown of tow and was no 
longer a haughty court lady, 
but only Olga, the Flax- 
spinner’s maiden, she re- 
pined at her lot. Frowning, 
she carried the water from 
the spring. Frowning, she 
gathered the cresses and 
plucked the woodland fruit. 
And then she sat all day by 
the spring, refusing to 


23 


THE LEGEND OF THE 


spread the linen o n the 
grass to bleach. 

She was discontented 
with the old life of toil, 
and pouted crossly because 
duties called her when she 
wanted to do nothing but 
sit idly dreaming of the gay 
court scenes in which she 
had taken a bright brief 
part. The old Flax-spinner’s 
fingers trembled as she 
spun, when she saw the 


BLEEDING - HEAR T 


frowns, for she had given 
(j^ of her heart’s blood to buy 
happiness for this maiden 
(jj^ she loved, and well she 
^ knew there can be no hap- 
^ piness where frowns abide. 
^ She felt that her years of 
sacrifice had been in vain, 
cq but when the Oak wagged 
ffe his head she called back 
waveringly, “ My little Olga 
£5 will not be ungrateful and 
forgetful ! ” 




THE LEGEND OF THE 


That night outside the 
castle gate, Olga paused. 
She had forgotten the 
charm. The day’s discon- 
tent had darkened her 
memory as storm-clouds 
darken the sky. But she 
grasped her necklace imperi- 
ously. 

“ Deck me at once ! ” she 
cried in a haughty tone. 
“ Clothe me more beauti- 
fully than mortal maid was 




BLEEDING - HEAR T 

ever clad before, so that I 
may find favour in the 
Prince’s sight and become 
the bride of the castle ! I 
would that I were done for 
ever with the spindle and 
the distaff ! ” 

But the moon went under 
a cloud and the wind began 
to moan around the turrets. 
The black night hawks in 
the forest flapped their 
wings warningly, and the 


THE LEGEND OF THE 


black bats flitted low around 
her head. 

“ Obey me at once ! ” she 
cried angrily, stamping her 
foot and jerking at the 
necklace. But the string 
broke, and the beads went 
rolling away in the darkness 
in every direction and were 
lost — all but one, which 
she held clasped i n her 
hand. 


BLEEDING - HEART 


castle gate ; wept outside in 
the night and the darkness, 
in her peasant’s garb of tow. 
But after awhile through 
her sobbing, stole the an- 
swering sob of the night 
wind. 

“Hush-sh!” it seemed to 
say. “ Sh-sh ! Never a heart 
can come to harm, if the lips 
but speak the old dame’s 
charm.” 

The voice of the night 


29 




THE LEGEND OF THE 

wind sounded so much like 
the voice of the old Flax- 
spinner, that Olga was 
startled and looked around 
wonderingly. Then sud- 
denly she seemed to see the 
thatched cottage and the 
bent form of the lonely old 
woman at the wheel. All 
the years in which the good 
dame had befriended her 
seemed to rise up in a row, 

and out of each one called 
30 


BLEEDING - HEAR T 


a thousand kindnesses as 
with one voice : “ How canst 
thou forget us, Olga ? We 
were done for love’s sweet 
sake, and that alone ! ” 

Then was Olga sorry and 
ashamed that she had been 
so proud and forgetful, and 
she wept again. The tears 
seemed to clear her vision, 
for now she saw plainly 
that through no power of 
her own could she wrest 


THE LEGEND OF THE 


strange favours from for- 
tune. Only the power of 
the old charm could make 
them hers. She remem- 
bered it then, and hold- 
ing fast the one bead in 
her hand, she repeated 
humbly : 

“ For love’s sweet sake, in my hour of 
need, 

Blossom and deck me, little seed.” 

Lo, as the words left her 
lips, the moon shone out 
from behind the clouds 


BLEEDING - HEAR T 

above the dark forest. 
There was a fragrance of 
lilies all about, and a gos- 
samer gown floated around 
her, whiter than the white- 
ness of the fairest lily. It 
was fine like the finest lace 
the frost-elves weave, and 
softer than the softest er- 
mine of the snow. On her 
long golden hair gleamed a 
coronet of pearls. 

So beautiful, so dazzling 


33 


THE LEGEND OF THE 


was she as she entered the 
castle door, that the Prince 
came down to meet her, and 
kneeling, kissed her hand 
and claimed her as his 
bride. Then came the 
bishop in his mitre, and led 
her to the throne, and before 
them all the Flax-spinner’s 
maiden was married to the 
Prince, and made the Prin- 
cess Olga. 

Then until the seven days 


34 


BLEEDING - HEAR T 


and seven nights were done, 
the revels lasted in the 
castle. And in the merri- 
ment the old Flax-spinner 
was again forgotten. Her 
kindness of the past, her 
loneliness in the present had 
no part in the thoughts of 
the Princess Olga. 

All night the old Oak, tap- 
ping on the thatch, called 
down, “ Thou’rt forgotten ! 
Thou’rt forgotten ! ” 


35 



THE LEGEND OF THE 


But the beads that had 
rolled away in the darkness, 
buried themselves in the 
earth, and took root, and 
sprang up, as the o 1 d 
woman knew they would 
do. There at the castle 
gate they bloomed, a 
strange, strange flower, for 
on every stem hung a row 
of little bleeding hearts. 

One day the Princess 
Olga, seeing them from her 



BLEEDING - HEAR T 


window, went down to them 
in wonderment. 

“ What do you here ? ” 
she cried, for in her forest 
life she’d learned all speech 
of bird and beast and 
plant. 

“ We bloom for love’s 
sweet sake,” they answered. 
“ We have sprung from the 
old Flax-spinner’s gift — the 
necklace thou didst break 


THE LEGEND OF THE 


heart’s best blood she 
gave it, and her heart still 
bleeds to think she is for- 
gotten.” 

Then they began to tell 
the story of the old dame’s 
sacrifices, all the seventy 
times seven that she had 
made for the sake of the 
maiden, and Olga grieved as 
she listened, that she could 
have been s o ungrateful. 

Then she brought the 
38 


BLEEDING - HEAR T 


Prince to hear the story of 
the strange, strange flowers, 
and when he had heard, 
together they went to the 
lowly cottage and fetched 
the old Flax-spinner to the 
castle, there to live out all 
her days in ease and con- 
tentment. 

“ See now,” she whispered 
to the Oak at parting, but 
sturdily he held his ground, 
persisting, “ Thou wouldst 


THE LEGEND OF THE 


have been forgotten, save 
for that miracle of 
bloom.’’ 

And still the flower 
we call BLEEDING- 
HEART blooms on by 
cottage walls and castle 
gardens , to waken all 
the world to grateful mem- 
ories. And ever it doth 
bring to mind the lonely 
hearts that bleed because 
they are forgotten , and 


40 


BLEEDING - HEART 


all they sacrificed for 
love's sweet sake , to give us 
happiness. 


THE END. 





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